


The Lost Emerald

by scocoaphobia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blood, F/M, Rebellion, Royalty, Treason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6185743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scocoaphobia/pseuds/scocoaphobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where blood colour separates the nobles from the peasants, a commoner by the name of Arthur Kirkland happens to gain the acquaintance of the Lady Sakura, daughter of the High House of Honda. Caught in between a world filled with peerages, strife, cruelty, rebellion, and conflicted emotions, will the two of them be able to discover their true feelings for each other..?</p><p>[ Mainly AsaSakura ; hints of AmeViet and PruHun. ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've written using this website.
> 
> This fanfiction is loosely based off "Red Queen" by Victoria Aveyard (I would rather not tell any spoilers, so if you want to understand the context of my fanfic (or not—), do read the book! It's rather nice and interesting). And, yes, this fanfic is for my most favourite and my main OTP, AsaSakura (England x Nyo!Japan).
> 
> Yes, this is a multi-chapter fic-- meaning, there will be more than one chapter, so I suggest that you check every now and then to see if I've updated. (Usually, I might update every week, unless I am busy.)   
> Also, I apologise in advance if I might mischaracterise a character along the way-- I am simply an amateur still when it comes to writing.
> 
> However, I hope that you stick around until the end, and that you enjoy reading my fanfiction. Thanks for stopping by! C:

**Chapter 1**

 

“Get up!!”

A loud, rambunctious voice was quick to make the young man bolt up from his sleep, an evidently annoyed grimace spread all over his features.

 

“Alfred!” he yelled, his own voice a somewhat harsh, demanding tone. “How— How many times exactly do I have to tell you to stop waking me up like that?!”

 

Boisterous laughter filled the small room, echoing and bouncing through its four walls, its bearer proudly standing in the midst of the doorway, an equally mischievous grin curving on his lips. “Oh, come on, Artie! No need to be so grumpy, as always!” he guffawed, making his way towards the disgruntled young man, the sounds of his boots echoing on the wooden floor of their home.

 

The young man— Artie, or Art, as he was usually called by the people that surrounded him—glared at the other, younger man, his deep, emerald hued eyes piercing through the other’s aquamarine ones. “How could I possibly ever stop being so ‘grumpy’—as you call it—when you continue to wake me up in such a manner?” he retorted, the scowl on his face growing. He rubbed the side of his face with his hand, before running his fingers through his thick, messy, pale blond hair. “Damn it, Alfred.”

 

Alfred—the younger, more exuberant and lively boy, who seemed to be around his late teens—gave Artie a pout. “Y’know mama doesn’t like it when we cuss, Artie,” he said, eyebrows furrowing—whether it was concern or mockery, Artie didn’t know; however, it added to his annoyance all the same.

“I don’t care,” he snapped, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

 

Alfred’s frown deepened, but he was quick to perk up once again. “Hey, Hey, Artie, you do know what day it is today, don’t you?” he said, his voice once again filled with laughter. Artie simply gave him a bemused, slightly perplexed look. “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten, Artie!” Alfred began with a fake gasp. “Why, today’s the day the royals from the East come to visit the Bonnefoys!”

 

Artie frowned at him once again. In all honesty, he could care less about the lives of the royals, whether they be of the West, nor if they hailed from the far-off, distant, and allegedly mystical lands of the East. Then again, he was, more or less, forced to attend the crowd that had surely already begun to form outside the royal palace’s main gates. The Bonnefoys, after all, were a hard and strict royal house, with little to no tolerance of what they claimed to be ‘disobedience to their set laws’.

 

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath once again, pushing the sheets off of his body, shuffling out of his bed. “Get out, Alfred,” he grumbled, pushing the younger man out of the room.

 

“I’ll see you later, then, eh, Artie?” Alfred said with a small grin, waving his hand. “You know mama and I have to attend to the Bonnefoys.” He paused, looking up at the ceiling, as if deep in thought. “Knowing mama, she’s probably already there. She’s always early, anyway.”

 

The door of the entire house slammed loudly shut, leaving the young man alone inside. He sighed, staring at himself—at his messy, perpetually exasperated figure—at the nearby looking glass. He had to get ready, he knew—even as a rustblood, as a commoner, he knew that he had to dress his best for the event.

 

After all, he wouldn’t dare risk his life to go against one of the foolish decrees the Bonnefoys had made, whether he cared about royals or not.

 

—————

 

After he had gotten himself cleaned up—it was, more or less, a tedious task, especially since he never really had reason to prepare himself for such frivolousness, as Alfred and his mother were usually the ones serving beneath the Bonnefoy household, leaving him alone in the house to clean and wander off in the mud and dust-stained streets of the city—he locked the doors of the house, the keys clinking in his pocket as he briskly walked towards the royal palace’s main gate.

 

There weren’t as many people in the streets of the entire lower city as there usually was—even the merchants, the townsfolk, and the thieves had gathered themselves at the main gate. Artie was, obviously, rather late—the sea of people that had arrived were already thick, and, try as he might, he would never be able to get a glimpse of the royals passing by.

 

“Hey, Artie, over here!”

A voice from within the crowd quickly caught the young man’s attention. It was, as he had expected, Alfred. He quickly made his way towards him, pushing through the crowds to get to where he was.

“Finally, you’ve arrived,” Alfred began, his signature grin plastered on his face. “You always take so long, don’t you?” Artie simply glared at him. The boy pretended not to notice, and he averted his gaze towards the oncoming line of royals, as they were passing by.

 

The royals proved to be such a sight—more silly than anything, especially to the disdainful eyes of the young man. More often than not, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His half-brother, on the other hand, seemed to be brimming with enjoyment and ecstasy, his eyes vividly shining. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow—what exactly was so fascinating about this parade of fools?

 

The royals from the East were visibly large, powerful houses—there were only ever really 3 of the major houses from the East that had visited their land, but even so, their mighty prowess was evident in their entourage.

The retinues and the escorts of the Eastern high houses proved themselves to be quite an eye-catching crowd—there were many advisers, lesser nobles, and other people of importance all fancily clad in the traditional outfits normally worn in their side of the world—but, of course, with an unusual twist.

 

The first noble to appear from the entourage was Yao Wang, the head of all the ruling high houses in the Far East, as well as the head of the mighty and ancient House Wang. He was dressed in a deep, jet black traditional attire, called a _hanfu_ , embroidered with mystical, serpent-like dragons that were of the colour of his House and his blood—Gold. His own long, dark hair was tied back, held in place by a golden headpiece. Though, in all honesty, his appearance made him appear as if he was rather feminine, upon closer inspection, his broad shoulders, his sharp eyes and jawline, and the proud, regal stance and demeanour he carried around with him made it obvious that he was the dignified Head of the House.

 

The second noble that came into view was Lien Chung, the lone daughter of the warrior house, House Chung.

In all honesty, Artie himself was not quite so sure about the story of this high House, even if Alfred’s mother had told him and his half-brother numerous stories and legends of the high Houses that ruled the entire world. All he knew was that House Chung was initially a warrior clan, and cousins to the ruling house of Wang, albeit on a lower peerage.

The Lady Lien herself seemed to be such a strong-looking woman, though she was visibly around the age of his own half-brother. Even on such an event, the young lady from the warrior House carried herself with equal pride as her uncle. But, unlike him, she seemed to prefer to dress simply—a traditional garb that was the colour of her House and her blood, Jade. Her hair was tied into a tight bun, with a lotus hairpin made out of jade pinning it into place. The girl’s strong, determined eyes made Artie feel rather intimidated—nonetheless, he continued to watch on.

 

The third, and fortunately, the last, noble that Artie saw was a small, fragile, petite young woman that seemed to be a more friendly face, in comparison to the two previous nobles that made their way inside their large litters.

At first, there was a slightly puzzled look in his face—weren’t the nobles supposed to display their strength, their powers, and their prowess?

Why, then, did this girl seem so different from the other two houses..?

 

The announcer announced the name the young woman bore.

She was Sakura Honda, the only child and daughter of the other ruling house in the East, House Honda.

The girl—Sakura, as he had heard her be called—was a rather fair and pretty young woman. Her jet black hair, whose ends brushed ever so slightly with the tip of her slender shoulders, was tied with a white, floral hairpin. She was, just like the two earlier nobles, wearing the colours of her house—a kimono the silvery-white colour of pearls, embroidered with golden chrysanthemums.

 

Without anyone needing to tell him, Artie knew exactly the colour of her blood.

 

She was, no doubt, a Pearlblood.

If Artie remembered the stories and legends Alfred’s mother had always told them, the Pearlbloods were considered a high, regal house, nearly on the same peerage as the Goldenbloods.

And they were highly attributed with purity.

 

He shook his head—even if he knew that those stories were true, he still disliked the outrageous ideas that were the High Houses.

 

The girl—Sakura—turned her head around the crowd, giving them all polite, friendly smiles.

Not long after, she stopped, her gaze dropping on a particular person in the crowd.

 

Her dark, yellowish-brown eyes had met with the gaze of Artie, his own emerald-hued eyes locked with hers.

The two of them didn’t move—not even Artie, who knew better than to meet with the eyes of a high noble.

And yet, their longing gazes continued on. Only the gods knew how long their eyes had locked with each other.

Even long after the litter that was carrying the Pearlblood was well out of sight, Artie still couldn’t help but stare blankly into space.

 

“…Artie?” Alfred began, lightly pushing his half-brother. “Artie, are you alright?”

 

Fortunately for the young man, the boy’s voice was quick to knock him out of his reverie and back to reality.

 

“…ah,” he began, still seemingly lost in a daze.

A frown was quick to return to his features, after the realisation had struck him.

 

“…witchcraft,” he mumbled, pushing his way past the crowd, a scowl stuck on his face. He grabbed his half-brother’s arm, dragging him through the sea of people. “Witchcraft—all of them, all of those nobles and high houses and their idiotic blood.”

 

He huffed, gritting his teeth together.

 

“Especially her—especially that Pearlblood.

That— That ‘Lady Sakura’.

Curses be upon her.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 

“Behold, the High Houses hailing from the Far East.”

 

The loud, booming voice of the announcer reverberated within the gold-encrusted white marble hall. The representatives of the Eastern High Houses, along with their entourage, made their way inside the hall. Their servants helped the three nobles off of their litters; the Head of the House, Yao Wang, standing strong, proud, and regal as soon as he had gotten off, carrying about him an air of heavy formality; the lady Lien Chung standing as strong and as firm as her uncle, a look of fierce determination written deep within her golden brown eyes; the lady Sakura Honda standing as tall as her uncle and her cousin, but filled with more grace and elegance, her petite, slender body in a much more refined stature than her distant relatives.

 

Yao Wang beckoned his two nieces beside him with a small nod of his head, their escorts and maidservants trailing just a few feet behind them.

 

“Greetings, Prince Francis and Princess Marianne, of the royal High House of Bonnefoy,” the Goldenblood greeted, his voice a deep, mellifluous sound that echoed throughout the great throne hall. Even though the man spoke with a slight accent, he was still seen with high regard.

 

The Crown Prince, Francis Bonnefoy, simply stood alongside his sister, the princess Marianne, their deep blue set of sapphire-hued eyes watching the three royals that stood before them, both their lips curved ever so gracefully upwards. “It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Wang,” the prince replied, his own voice filled with propriety, giving them a deep bow. “And it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintances as well, Lady Sakura and Lady Lien, of the great Eastern Houses of Honda and Chung.”

 

Lien seemed to be unperturbed by the presence of the Western royals. She neither bowed graciously, nor even smiled—her lips were set into a firm, straight line. She merely stared back at them, her sharp eyes observing the two royals that stood before her.

Sakura, on the other hand, nodded her head lightly, giving the prince and the princess a small, bashful smile. Though she knew that the Sapphirebloods were of a lower peerage than her House, they were still royals, and she knew better than to disrespect them.

 

“I have heard that the king and the queen have both died a moon’s turn ago, my dear Prince,” Yao continued, speaking in behalf of the two young ladies that stood by his sides. “My deepest condolences.”

“Ah, indeed, they have, and even if it had been quite some time ago, me and my sister’s hearts are still quite heavily burdened with the loss,” Francis replied, forcing a sad, melancholic smile. “However, we are not to worry, as in the next month, I shall be the right age for kingship, and I shall take over the kingdom that my father has left me.”

 

Yao closed his eyes, simply nodding his head. He was evidently not for small talk, as was common amongst the great Houses in the West—he wanted to cut straight to the point, as was the way of the East.

“Ah, but I have not entirely come to join you in your sadness, my dear Prince. I regret to say that,” he began once more. “And I am quite certain that you are well aware of that, as well.”

The prince simply nodded his head.

 

“I have come here on matters of business,” the Goldenblood pressed on. “I have come here to strengthen the bonds between the East and the West.”

“I am well aware of the reason of your visit, Lord Wang,” the prince replied. “Though, I do believe that you, as well as these fine young ladies, are quite tired and weary from the long journey that you have made. Surely, you must all rest for now—we can talk about the subject at hand on the morrow. My servants shall escort you to the chambers.”

 

The Goldenblood nodded his head lightly. Though he preferred that the matter be talked over as soon as possible, he knew better than to deny the prince.

The prince and his sister bowed once more, before their own servants ushered them from the great throne hall. Not long after, other servants entered the hall, ushering each of the Eastern nobles from the halls and to their temporary residences.

 

Amidst all of these, however, the Pearlblood’s head was wandering far off.

The words exchanged between his uncle and the Crown Prince simply passed by her head, and even the arrival of the servants nor the grand splendour of the room she was ushered into did nothing to snap her out of her reverie.

 

Her mind kept on repeating that one moment, earlier in the morning.

 

The minute she crossed eyes with an emerald-eyed boy.

 

Now, she knew that, as a noble, she would never be allowed to see the young man ever again. After all, he was just but one of the many faces in the large crowd—a rustblood, and a commoner.

 

Still…

There was a light, fluttery feeling that she felt in her chest whenever the image of the lad’s face appeared in her mind. Their pale, messy, blond hair that shone brightly with the sunlight, the perfect symmetry of his face…

 

And his eyes.

 

His eyes intrigued—and attracted—her the most.

 

And yet, she knew she would never be able to see such a face, ever again.

 

She sighed to herself as she sat on the side of the bed of her temporary estate, as both her personal maidservants and the servants of the royal palace all went to arrange her belongings inside the room.

 

“Lady Sakura,” one of the royal servants spoke after all the rest had left. The young lady lifted her head and looked up.

Before her was a woman in a sapphire-blue garb, the uniform that the servants of the palace all seemed to wear. There was a certain strange, yet soft, kindness in her old, wise eyes, and her shoulders were arched slightly.

 

“Ah—yes, what is it..?” she asked, her own voice soft and nearly inaudible. The smile on the woman’s face grew.

“I am Mrs. Jones, head of the servants of the Bonnefoy household, and I shall be the servant to serve you whilst you stay within the royal palace,” the woman answered. “Is there anything I may do for you..? A cup of tea, perhaps..? Some sweets..?”

 

The young lady simply shook her head, momentarily spacing out once more, her head hung low and her gaze firmly set on the soft, velvet floor—that was, until a thought began to form in her mind.

 

“Ah, could— could you please give me some sort of small tour around the palace..?” she asked meekly. “The gardens— Specifically, the gardens.” She paused for a moment, once again deep in thought, before adding, “Oh, and please— could you call my cousin, Lady Lien..? I—I would like her to accompany me, as I go through the palace.”

 

The servant raised a questioning eyebrow. Obviously, she felt as if the young royal before her had such an odd, strange request—especially for that of a lady, who had just arrived from a long, arduous journey.

 

Sakura seemed to have caught the slightly doubtful, dubious look that the older woman had given her. “I… I simply wouldn’t want to be restrained inside this room, Mrs. Jones—if you understand what I mean,” she began, her voice half-pleading. “Besides, I am not at all that tired from the journey, and I would simply want a breath of fresh air, to take my mind off of… of things.”

 

The curious look on the servant’s face remained unchanged—but she knew better than to question a lady from a High House. After all, what was she, but just a mere rustblood..?

“I understand, my lady,” the woman replied, giving the younger lady a gentle smile. “Please, come with me. I shall escort you first to the chambers of your cousin—and then, we shall begin our ‘tour’ of the royal palace.”

 

————————

 

“I do not understand as to why you wanted me to accompany you on this silly little ‘tour’, my dear cousin,” the Jadeblood, Lien, grumbled lightly beneath her breath, her face rather unamused.

The two young ladies trailed a few feet behind the heels of the head of the servants, the sound of all their heels clicking and resonating throughout the marble halls of the palace.

Everyone else seemed to be off at their own work—nobles and servants alike preparing for the oncoming ball later this evening, which was meant to celebrate the arrival of the Eastern High Houses. Even their uncle, no doubt, was possibly inside his own private parlour, having a cup of tea.

 

Sakura simply gave her younger cousin a soft, gentle smile. “I told you, we all need a breath of fresh air, Lien,” she replied, her voice as soft as her gaze, “Besides, I wanted to see the gardens—and, no doubt, I’m certain that you do as well. I’d love to see the different kinds of plants and flowers that only grow here, in the Western region…” She turned away briefly, closing her eyes wistfully. “They’re sure to be a rare sight. I doubt that we have any of those back in the East.”

 

The sharp, somewhat fierce eyes of her cousin remained unmoved—and yet, her voice seemed to soften a little. Even her otherwise tall, proud, arched back was slumped back, now a bit more relaxed. “I… I suppose that you are right, my cousin,” she said in response, her eyebrows creasing lightly. “However, I know that you are aware that the two of us still need to prepare for the ball, later this evening. …aren’t you..? I honestly wouldn’t want to attend, as such frivolous balls are not the way of the warrior, but… you know how strict our uncle could be.”

She then leaned a little closer to her cousin, and whispered in her ear.

“Besides, I have heard that the Bonnefoys are a rather strict House. They do not forget easily—they do not overlook even the smallest of slights.”

 

“We have arrived in the Northern Gardens, my ladies,” the gentle voice of the servant was quick to end the chatter between the two girls. The servant pushed open the large wooden doors that had been freshly painted a deep sapphire blue—the paint could not have been more than fifteen years old. The doors loudly creaked open, and the strong sunlight was quick to greet the three of them, accompanied by a war, friendly breeze.

 

As the three of them stepped into the garden, the scent of a thousand plants and flowers immediately wafted in the air.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Lien..?” Sakura began, eyes glimmering with deep fascination and interest as her head spun around, taking in all the wonderful sights & colours that filled her vision. “Look at all those blooming flowers..! Aren’t those called ‘carnations’..? Oh, they even have orchids as well..! And roses, too…” She paused momentarily, trying to catch her breath. “Even the flowers here are a deep shade f blue. I suppose that the Bonnefoys really are rather proud of their blood…”

 

She was grinning widely to herself the entire time, moving from one flowerbed to another, walking between hedges and trees.

 

That was when she caught sight of a set of differently coloured roses, nestled deep amongst the blue ones. The persistent roses were painted a deep green shade, the colour of emeralds.

 

That colour…

 

She had seen that colour before.

 

The colour of these odd bunch of roses… were the same emerald green of the eyes of the boy she had seen earlier.

Her heart fluttered for a moment, as the image of the boy’s face flashed in her mind once again.

 

Those eyes… how she longed to see them again.

 

But… how could she..?

He was nothing more but a face amongst the sea of commoners…

 

She shook her head, trying to shrug aside the thought of him.

 

She raised her head to look up at her cousin, as well as the rather friendly servant.

But when she looked, there was no one there.

 

“Lien..?” she began, suddenly growing wary. Blinded by her deep admiration for the flowers that blossomed within the garden, along with her distant thoughts, she hadn’t realised that she had strayed too far off, and had, unfortunately, ended up getting lost.

 

“Lien..? Mrs. Jones..?” she called out once more, hoping that at least one of them would reply to her pleas. The once beautiful and vivid plants that she, only a few moments earlier, had been admiring, now all seemed to cave in, the mere sight of them seemingly mocking her for her carelessness.

 

She had underestimated the size of the gardens—she had assumed that it was rather small. But now, as she stood in the midst of it all, lost and wary, she had realised her mistake.

 

She began walking, deciding that it would be better for her to find the exit on her own, rather than to wait for the others to find her. In a slightly hurried pace, she began to walk briskly towards the path she thought she had taken, slowly retracing her steps—only for her to collide into a tall, broad-shouldered figure.

 

“Ah, I’m so sorry miss—“ the taller figure blurted out, immediately retreating and stepping back.

Sakura tilted her head upwards. There before her was a young man, seemingly around the age of her younger cousin, albeit taller. There was a friendly, yet apologetic and slightly goofy smile stuck on his face. And his eyes… were the same light, aquamarine hue as the head of the servants.

 

But the boy’s striking similarity to the head of the servants wasn’t the only thing that seemed to make him stand out. No, there was something else— something she could sense in that friendly face that just seemed all too familiar.

 

“…weren’t you the one standing with the emerald-eyed boy amongst the crowd, earlier this morning..?” she spoke, a curious eyebrow raised.

The boy returned her look with a puzzled one.

“Emerald-eyed…” he mused to himself, eyebrows creased and mouth curled into a small, uncertain frown.

“Emerald…— oh, green! You mean Artie!”

 

Sakura tilted her head at the name—so that was the name of the one she had seen. Her heart began to flutter once again as the young man’s face crossed her mind—the young man who now had a name.

 

“So you know of him…” she muttered.

“Of course I do,” the boy chortled, bursting into a spontaneous, hearty laugh. “Why shouldn’t I? I mean, he’s my half-brother, after all. At least, that’s what mama told me. Come to think of it, Artie does look a bit different from mama and me… especially with those silly thick eyebrows of his.”

Another laughter burst from the boy’s lips. “Ah, anyway, I’m so sorry for running into you, Lady Sakura,” he winked, his light-blue eyes shining. “My name’s Alfred, by the way. Alfred Jones, caretaker of the gardens and the stables. And yes, before you ask—Mrs. Jones, the head of the servants, is my mama.” And with that, he took a deep bow.

“Any way I can be of help to you, Lady Sakura..?”

 

The Pearlblood herself simply pursed her lips, still observing the young manx before him. No wonder he looked terribly similar to the head of the servants—he was her child.

 

She furrowed her eyebrows.

“…you did say that you know the emerald-eyed boy, didn’t you..? And that you are his… umm, ‘half-brother’..?” she spoke after a long period of silence, a small tinge of hope suddenly filling her. Perhaps, through him, she would be able to meet this strange lad once more—and be able to finally properly know him.

She turned around, searching the place for any signs of eavesdroppers.

 

“Could you please take me to him?”

 

The boy once again burst into a laugh, before leaning his face closer to the smaller girl.

“Lady Sakura, I apologise—and forgive me for this—but I’m afraid that I’m not exactly in the right place to do just that,” he said, his voice nearly hushed. “And I don’t think that they’ll allow me to bring commoners inside the palace, either, so don’t ask me to drag him all the way over here.”

 

Sakura pursed her lips—though she was somewhat aware of the possible consequences of her actions, she was not one who would simply back down.

“Please—I have to. I— I must,” she stated firmly. “I need to see him again.”

 

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, obviously considering the matter at hand.

“…alright, then, Lady Sakura,” he finally said after a long pause, heaving a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms. “Though—forgive me for doubting—I’m not exactly sure why you’d want to meet up with him, in the first place—especially since he’s but a rustblood, like I am. And, besides, I don’t think that you two really know each other, do you?”

 

She chose to ignore his inquiry. She sighed inwardly, at least a bit relieved that he would bring her to him—or at least, that was what he said. Though she had only ever met him at this moment—and though she knew much better than to do so—she felt as if she could trust this boy—this rustblood named Alfred.

 

“Anything else I can do to help you, Lady Sakura?” he said, perking up, the earlier dubious look on his face now completely gone, replaced by yet another one of his goofy grins.

 

“Ah— y-yes,” Sakura replied, snapping out of her thoughts.

“Could you please return me to my chambers..?”

 

“Oh, that, I _still_ can’t do,” Alfred chuckled. “Y’see, my boots are well-worn and muddy from work, and I wouldn’t dare step foot inside the polished marble halls. But, I can bring you back to mama—“ he raised his head and waved his hand, looking far behind her. “She’s already coming over here, see? And she’s brought along with her your pretty little cousin, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I couldn’t believe that you’ve managed to get yourself lost inside the gardens, my cousin,” the Jadeblood began, her voice rather unamused, yet demanding all the same.

 

“I’m sorry,” the Pearlblood replied, still feeling rather bashful on the topic of the event. “You do know that I get too carried away whenever I find myself within a garden. Though I suppose that I should’ve been more careful, especially since this isn’t like the ones back at home…”

 

Lien huffed lightly, her sharp eyes carefully looking her cousin over. “At least the gardener found you and managed to help you out. Without him, you would’ve faced the wrath of our uncle.”

 

Sakura couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Ah, indeed—I am aware of that fact.”

 

The two young ladies shared a giggle—even the usually stoic Lien.

 

“Ah, but I suppose that we have to make our way to the ballroom now, don’t we..?”

 

The two ladies—once again escorted by the head of the servants, Mrs. Jones, walked through the same marble hallways, making their way towards the ballroom. From afar, they could already hear the distant music created by a piano and some violinists, as well as the lively chatter of all the invited nobles.

 

The young Jadeblood of House Chung had now donned on a more formal attire for the ball. Though her dress was still rather simple, still lacking any frivolous ornaments, she had worn a Jade-coloured outfit that reached past her feet and trailed gently on the floor. The silk clung tightly onto her skin, carefully and sharply outlining the young woman’s features. Even beneath the dress, her strong shoulders and legs were still rather visible. She wore a jade hairpin crafted into the delicate shape of a blossoming lotus.

The Pearlblood lady of House Honda, on the other hand, wore a silvery-white furisode that stopped just a few centimetres above her ankles, with a long, ribbon-like red obi tied firmly around her waist, its edges trailing softly on the marble floor. Her silken outfit had also firmly outlined the lady’s features, though her features were far more softer, gentler, and refined in comparison to her younger cousin. Her short, jet-black hair had been braided on one side, the other side clasped with a red spider lily hair clip.

 

“Behold, Lady Sakura of the Pearlbloods of House Honda, and Lady Lien of the Jadebloods of House Chung,” an announcer’s voice echoed loudly throughout the entire hallway as soon as the two ladies stepped inside the ballroom.

 

From their elevated position atop the grand staircase lined with a deep blue velvet, they could see that the ball had already begun. The loud music surrounded the entire room, and couples were dancing merrily across the ballroom, their steps and twirls matching with the slow melodies that the piano and the violins played. Their own uncle was situated amongst the crowd, conferring with a group of Western nobles—possibly about trade relations between the East and the West, or something of the like. The Crown Prince himself was dancing with a giggling, blushing young woman— a Rubyblood it seemed, judging from her fierce, fiery red dress that flowed behind her. It was a wonder that the Crown Prince would dance with a Rubyblood—one of the lowest rank in the peerage of blood colours, if not the most, as Rubybloods were the colour most nearest to the dull, rusty reddish-brown of the rustbloods. Even legend has it that the rustbloods were once all mutated Rubybloods, cast out due to their difference.

 

Sakura and Lien made their way down the staircase, each step a delicate one. They both bowed and curtsied to the nobles that greeted them, giving them all a polite smile.

“I shall be going to uncle, my cousin,” Lien told the other, walking rather briskly towards the place where the Goldenblood was. Sakura simply nodded her head, situating herself beside a marble pillar lined with gold. Even if she was a high noble, she had always been a wallflower at social events—most especially balls.

 

“Would you care to dance with me, Lady Sakura?”

A deep, velvety voice rang through the Pearlblood’s ears, and she quickly spun around—only to find herself face to face with the Crown Prince, his head dipped lightly and his hand extended towards her. His deep blue eyes stared at hers longingly, a small smile curved up his lips.

 

“Ah—“ Sakura began, eyes widening a little. Her eyes spun around, looking at the curious faces of the older nobles, and the slightly jealous looks that the other young ladies gave her.

To tell the truth, Sakura had not much interest in dancing, nor towards the handsome young man that was the Crown Prince. But, no matter how much she wanted to shrug away the thought—as much as she wanted to turn him down, to beg him to leave her be—he was a prince nonetheless, and the future ruler of one of the most prominent lands in the West. Shyly and hesitantly, she nodded her head, gently taking the prince’s outstretched, gloved hand, her own hand intertwining with his.

 

As the prince led her towards the large ballroom, where other couples were twirling gracefully, the music changed, a softer tone in comparison to the earlier lively one.

“I am quite glad of your arrival here in my land, Lady Sakura,” Francis purred, his eyes fixated on the young lady’s face. “It is a pleasure to have your acquaintance—and a greater pleasure to have the honour to dance with the daughter of one of the most important High Houses in the East.”

Sakura simply nodded at his words, forcing a small, polite smile on her face. “It is a pleasure to have your acquaintance as well, Prince Francis,” she replied, her own voice soft.

“The West certainly is rather different from the land you come from, is it not?” the Sapphireblood continued to talk, gently guiding the lady across the ballroom floor. “All the frilly, frivolous dresses, the intricate hairstyles, the differences in our culture… ah, and even the ladies. To tell the truth, the ladies from the West are not to be compared with the beauty of those hailing from the East.” He smiled gently at her, a deep fondness and admiration sparkling in his gaze.

 

His eyes and his soft words were quick to send a blush creeping up the young lady’s face, her face a silvery-white pale colour as her blood rushed up her cheeks. The Sapphireblood couldn’t help but chuckle.

She looked at him—his face, his features, the deep set of eyes that he bore, to the light blond colour of his long hair, that was tied back with a sapphire-blue ribbon, emblazoned with a golden fleur-de-lys. In that moment, she seemed to understand how the other noble young ladies extremely fancied this prince (aside from the fact that he was the to-be king)—he was a very handsome young man, who seemed to be rather kind.

 

…but no.

 

No matter how hard Sakura tried, she couldn’t find it within herself to fall for this prince—this handsome, attractive Sapphireblood.

 

No.

 

All that raced in her thoughts—all she saw in the place of the noble that stood before her—was the face of the young, emerald-eyed young man that she had seen from amongst the crowd, earlier that morning.

 

Artie.

 

She paused, her lips pursed into a firm, straight line.

 

“Ah— my dear prince, Francis—“ she began, shaking her head lightly. “I… I apologise, but I… I am not exactly feeling quite well at this moment. I am truly sorry, but… Please excuse me— I need to return to my chambers.”

And with that, she slowly let go of his hand, slipping away slowly from his grasp, and taking brisk footsteps towards the exit, walking up the staircase and through the marble hallway, and back to the inside of her chambers—her temporary safe haven.

 

She immediately locked the door of the room, then headed straight for the soft, plush bed, burying her face beneath the silken pillows.

 

Then she heard a soft rapping sound at the window.

 

“Lien, if that is you— or if it is Mrs. Jones, then please, go away,” she called out, mistaking the sound as coming from the door.

 

The tapping sound didn’t cease to a stop, even if she repeated her words thrice. Getting a bit frustrated, she shot up from the bed, about to hurry over and burst open the large, wooden doors—before she saw a dark shadow outside the window.

She was about to let out a scream—before she squinted her eyes and looked closer.

 

It was Alfred.

 

She hurried towards the window and hastily opened it.

“Alfred, what— what exactly are you doing outside the window..?” she began, a deeply puzzled look spreading across her features. “Isn’t it rather late..? Aren’t you supposed to be staying at your house now..?”

“Look, Lady Sakura, I didn’t come all the way over here to answer your questions— and if you want me to answer them, then I guess I should just go away,” the young man immediately said, his words hushed.

“Why are you here, then, Alfred?” the young lady asked, raising a dubious eyebrow at him.

“Why, didn’t you say that you wanted me to take you to Artie— that ‘emerald-eyed boy’ you saw?” he replied, a huge grin crowing his face. “Come on— we better hurry, before the party ends. After all, we wouldn’t want anyone to grow suspicious on why you’re gone, right? Now, come on.”

 

Hesitantly, she struggled out of the window—only to find herself in a much more perilous situation. “A-Alfred, I can’t—“ she began, her voice a loud whisper. Her feet dangled in the air as she sat firmly on the windowsill, hands still tightly gripping on the frame. “I-I can’t get down from here.”

“Oh, ‘course you can, Lady Sakura,” the young boy replied, revealing another toothy grin. “Just use the vines over there to climb down here. And if you fall, I’ll be over here to catch you, so there’s really no need to worry.”

 

Skeptically, she let go of her grip of the frame and clung onto the thick vines that snaked up the palace walls. It took her quite some time to finally properly get down—it was difficult for her to get proper footing, especially with the heels that she had worn for the ball.

 

“Here, wear this,” Alfred said, handing her a long piece of cloth. “After all, you wouldn’t want others to recognise you, right? And I can’t just let anyone know that I was involved in all of this—a lady of high birth escaping her host.”

She frowned lightly at him, before pulling the cloth above her head—it was a brown, hooded sackcloth cloak, which perfectly hid not only her facial features, but her entirety as well, down to her feet.

The young man immediately grabbed the young lady’s small, delicate hand. “Don’t worry, we won’t be running all the way over there,” he said reassuringly. “I borrowed a horse from the stables, so we can get around faster.”

 

—————————————————

 

The scenery was quick to change from the dense forestry that surrounded the palace, to the cobblestone roads of the town. Trees slowly dissipated into houses and buildings of various shapes, sizes, and heights. Though she had heard numerous and countless times that cities and towns—the residences of rustbloods in general—were rather chaotic and unruly, the moonlight seemed to have silenced the daily activities of the place, and there was not a soul in sight—simply the flickering electrical lights inside the homes. The young noblewoman took in all the sights—after all, it was rather rare for her to ever be outside noble properties.

 

“Ah, we’re here, Lady Sakura.”

Alfred quickly got off the horse, then held out a hand for the lady to take. Once she had properly gotten off the horse, the boy knocked softly on one of the doors that lined the streets.

 

“Hey, Artie!” Alfred greeted his half-brother, giving him one of his famous toothy grins as he quickly embraced the other.

 

“God, when will you ever stop doing that,” the young man grumbled, obvious irritation written deep in his voice.

“You know that I’ll never stop doing that, Artie,” Alfred chuckled, letting go. “After all, you’re still my half-brother—if that accounts for anything.”

Artie couldn’t help but mutter and curse beneath his breath.

 

“Anyway, Artie, I’ve got someone who wanted to meet you.”

 

Artie was quick to raise a thick eyebrow, his emerald-green eyes flickering with confusion and curiosity against the streetlight.

“Someone..?”

There was a hint of annoyance in his tone of voice—and yet, at the same time, he was rather curious. He had never had much friends nor acquaintances—save for Alfred, his adoptive mother, and a handful of the townsfolk. So who could possibly be wanting to meet this grumbling, irritable sort of lad?

 

Alfred turned around, beckoning for a hooded figure that stood a few feet from him to come closer.

“Lady Sakura, come over here.”

 

Now, the name was quick to make the young man be taken aback.

What exactly did a noble—a Pearlblood and the daughter of an Eastern High House—want to do with a rustblood, a commoner like him?

Was she here to mock him with her existence?

Or, worse— was she here to declare a threat against him, specifically for meeting with her eyes earlier that day..?

 

The figure slowly slid off the hood that was covering her face—it was, indeed, the young noblewoman, Lady Sakura Honda.

 

“P-Please, don’t be afraid—“ she quickly said to the young man, who seemed to still be taken aback with both shock and fear. “I— I know this is such a strange happenstance, and, to be fair to you, I know that this—a-all of this—is rather bewildering, or even frightening at the most, but, please— d-don’t— don’t be afraid.”

 

The rustblood’s eyebrow’s furrowed, his glance shifting from his half-brother’s (rather proud) face, to the gentle, slightly worried features of the young woman that stood before him.

 

“I— I don’t understand,” he began, the scowl on his face deepening. “What would anyone—someone with the likes of you, a _bloody_ noble, of all people—want to do with me?”

 

Sakura shook her head, a frown forming on her face. “I… I’m so sorry,” she began, her voice cracking a little. “It— It’s possibly my fault, isn’t it..? But I… I’ve managed to see you—to meet eye with you—amongst the sea of faces, and I just…”

 

Artie raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. The look on his face sent out a rather clear message—he wanted answers, and he would demand for them, if he could. Though, part of him still grew rather wary— he has heard enough of the nobles to know exactly how cruel and unjust they were.

 

The young lady sighed, lowering her head lightly, before raising it back up again to meet with the taller man’s eyes.

“I simply wanted to get your acquaintance. To— To know you more.”

 

The look on the young man’s face remained unchanged—there was still that doubtful look on his face. (Though, he had to admit, part of him felt relieved that this noble didn’t want his head.)

 

“Let me get this clear,” he began, slightly disinterested eyes staring down at the smaller, petite figure. “You… you wanted to gain my acquaintance..? You, a noble—and of the High House of Honda, nonetheless?”

The girl simply nodded her head. If anything, it felt as if the noble was more frightened of the rustblood than he was with her.

 

Artie rubbed his temples, muttering beneath his breath. “This is… rather odd, that I have to admit,” he began. “Such an odd case, indeed.”

 

“But, I suppose, it couldn’t really be helped, could it..?” he added, attempting to give the young woman a small smile—even though his eyebrows were still furrowed, and a hint of his grimace still hung in the air. “Besides, a rustblood like me simply couldn’t deny the request of a noble, no matter how absurd it seems.”

 

A glimmer of hope began to flicker in the dark, yellowish-brown eyes of the Pearlblood. She was rather positive that the young man would deny her strange request of acquaintanceship—but, to her surprise, it proved to be otherwise.

 

“Thank you—“ she stated, giving him a soft, gentle, and contented smile.

“Oh, and— please, do not call me “Lady Sakura”, or “Lady Honda”. Simply call me “Sakura”.”

 

Artie couldn’t help but chuckle at the antic of the young noblewoman—even for someone who hardly ever laughed, he found the entire situation rather pleasing.

“Ah, is that so, then, Sakura,” he said, giving emphasis to the Pearlblood’s name. “Then, I suppose you should call me Artie— Or, Arthur, rather, as my adoptive mother once told me.”

 

Alfred couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Ah, guys, this whole “acquaintanceship” thing sure is nice and all, but—“ he cast a quick glance at Sakura, a slightly well-hidden fear in his eyes. “I’m afraid that Lady Sakura has to go back to the palace, or else.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

 

“Hey, Artie, I’ll be heading off to the palace, now.”

 

The young man slowly raised his head, staring at the younger boy rather vacantly.

“Ah— do take care, Alfred,” he replied, watching as his younger half-brother disappeared out of the room, before his gaze dropped back onto the unfinished plate of breakfast.

 

To be honest, the past two weeks had been a rather entertaining showcase of events— and Arthur couldn’t help but stop for a moment and rethink of all the odd occurrences that had happened. Not even the food—which he knew better than to waste, seeing as his family was but rustbloods, even if they all worked in the palace (save for him, of course, who whiled away his days in the city)—seemed rather appetising for him.

First was the day the High Houses hailing from the East had arrived—and him, whether fortunately or not, had found himself meeting with the deep, dark yellow eyes of the daughter of House Honda. And then, to further deepen the matter, the Pearlblood herself appeared before him, brought to his house’s door by none other than his half-brother himself.

Things had rather grown rather awry since then—at least, by societal standards— as the Pearlblood continued to visit him nightly, his half-brother never failing to bring her safely from and to the royal palace.

 

In all honesty, the more he had spent time with the Pearlblood, the more he realised how friendly and charming the young girl was—and how kind she was, in great comparison to the rest of the nobles, specifically the Bonnefoys that ruled the place.

She was always soft-spoken, mild-mannered, and she hardly resorted to using rather harsh words. Even her entire small, fragile figure was rather graceful and elegant, even beneath the dark brown sackcloth hooded cloak that she always wore to hide herself.

 

And her eyes… her smile… her face.

 

Arthur never wanted to deal with the royals and the nobles—he had grown a deep hatred towards them. Even when he first met the eyes of this beautiful, wonderful young lady, he cursed her—as much as he had cursed himself for letting himself fall to what he had considered to be her ‘trap’.

 

But now…

 

Now, every night, he longed to see the mesmerising face of the young Pearlblood, to see the warm, dark yellow eyes sparkling against the faint light of the electrical street lamps, to watch her gentle smile curve ever so softly and gracefully up her features…

 

Every night, he longed to see her once more.

 

But…

 

He shook his head—he had to constantly remind himself of his place. He was but a mere rustblood, destined to work and serve beneath the trampling feet of the atrocious, horrible nobles and high houses.

 

And she was one of them.

 

One of the nobles, confined to a distant world of frivolousness and extravagance.

 

And, soon enough, she would have to marry amongst those of her peerage, someone of an equally high birth.

 

…not that he considered the two of them to be a possibility, anyway.

 

He shook his head—he wasn’t normally like this. Hell, he _never_ was like this—he was a hard-headed, stubborn, irritable young man, who firmly stuck with his own beliefs, and would never be swayed by such foolish fantasies.

 

He swept up the unfinished plate, placing it rather carelessly on the sink.

 

He would rather die, than have himself admit to the blossoming, conflicted emotions that ran through both his heart and his head.

 

Arthur hastily made his way to the door—after all, he had some errands to run, as was requested by his adoptive mother. The royals would never know of it, but he was one of the people that would go out to the marketplace and get some of the items they needed to stock up on their numerous shelves.

 

The sight of the busy, lively city street was what greeted his bright green eyes the minute he stepped out of the house.

It was not a strange sight—with all his twenty-one years of living, he had grown more than accustomed to all of this robust and lively scene. If anything, this was but a simple part of his daily life—something that he would always overlook.

 

The rustbloods all hurried past—in vivid and great comparison to the nobles that occasionally appeared in the streets of the town, all of them were dressed in rusty, dirtied clothes, that seemed to match their blood colour in a rather ironic way. Young children hurried past in a game of tag, chasing each other in the streets, their high-pitched, shrilly voices echoing throughout the area. Sellers hollered to the people that passed by, yelling loudly the names of the individual items they all sold.

To Arthur, all of this seemed rather irritable—clearly, the children have no control, and the buyers could obviously see what the shopkeepers would be selling, with no need for them to yell their items.

 

As the young man hurried past, making his way towards the merchant’s bay—to buy some of the fish and mussels that had been freshly caught from the sea—the door of a nearby pub burst open, one of its two doors breaking off its hinges.

The sight that had greeted him the moment he turned his head was not quite friendly.

 

Two of the royal guards, with their blindingly shining silver armour, stepped out of the pub, firmly holding and dragging a middle-aged man.

“Let me go—!!” the man screamed, his face as red as the blood that trickled down the side of his head as he struggled to free himself from the tight grasps of the two guards. Though it was evident that his struggle was fruitless and futile, he continued to struggle to break free, twisting and turning desperately—but to no avail.

 

The two guards dragged him to the town square, in the midst of all the crowds, for them to see. They harshly bound him to a large, wooden block that stood persistently on a tall platform, firmly placing his upper body and his head on the block.

One of the two guards lifted the helmet off of his head.

Arthur knew who the man was.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, the notorious Silverblood, captain of the royal guards and head executioner.

 

“Now, you,” Gilbert spoke, his ruby-red eyes narrowed menacingly at the commoner. “Renounce your words, and I shall let you live.”

The rustblood twisted his head up and spat at the face of the Sliverblood, who simply wiped his face. “Never,” the man replied, his voice equally threatening. “I shall never take back my words.” Then, with a louder voice, the man yelled out, “You, common folk, fellow rustbloods! You all are aware of the vicious atrocities that the Bonnefoys have befallen us! Shall we simply stand back, and refuse to fight against their terrible decrees? Should they continue to terrorise us with their unjust rules?”

The man gained no response from the crowd—all of them were all stupefied and dumbfounded by the sight before them.

“I do not regret my words—and I know that I have died, remaining loyal to the cause that I firmly believe in,” the man shouted once more, a resigned, yet still oddly determined look on his face. “Long live the Rust Rebellion!”

 

And with that, the heavy steel sword of the captain of the royal guards fell on the neck of the man. Crimson red blood spurted out of his body as his severed head rolled on the cobblestone grounds of the town square.

 

“All of you— begone, lest you all be next,” the Silverblood bellowed, raising his still bloodied blade in the air, waving it at the crowd. The crowd was quick to stumble to their feet, hurriedly rushing from the gruesome scene to return to their stalls and places.

 

Arthur had seen far too many public executions similar to this one, these days.

It was rather silly how the nobles—specifically the royal house of Bonnefoy—all claimed to be powerful and majestic, and yet the mere words of a commoner was quick to install fear in them.

Or was it..?

 

As the crowd was quick to dissipate, Arthur couldn’t help but find a lone figure of a woman standing persistently in the midst of the town square, eyes still fixated on the bloodied corpse of the executed man.

“…he’s only one of the many others…” the woman said, her voice hushed as she whispered to herself. Her hazelnut-brown hair brushed lightly with the small gust of wind that passed fleetingly by. “…he’s one of the many others that have been executed—and will still be executed—for their beliefs.” A sigh escaped her lips, before she brushed past the young man. “Many more will sacrifice themselves—but this is only the beginning of the Rust Rebellion.”

 

Arthur felt a shiver run down his spine as the words of the slightly older woman lingered in his thoughts. He had heard numerous accounts of attempts to overthrow the unfair and unequal rule of the Bonnefoys—but most of them were merely gossips he had overheard, and those that were proven to be indeed real all failed.

 

…but what if, this time…

…the rebellion proved to be successful..?

 

He shook his head—though he had a strong dislike for the nobles himself, he had no interest whatsoever to join a rebellion. He would rather stay clear from such and keep his hands clean.

 

He hurried past the crowd, and continued to make his way towards the Merchant’s Docks, situated by the sea.

 

Once he arrived, the salty air immediately greeted him, a soft, gentle breeze lightly brushing his messy, golden blond hair.

There was not much dissimilarities between the Merchant’s Docks and the Marketplace—both still had the playful children deeply engaged in their games, and the loud, booming voices of the sellers. The only main difference was that most of the items being sold were not only fish, mussels, or any other kind of seafood—there was a huge market where merchants and traders from all across the world sold their exotic merchandise.

 

Arthur was quick to get to work, buying all the items his adoptive mother had told him to. By the end of the day, his blond hair stuck to his rather pale forehead, beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his face.

 

He was about to leave the Merchant’s Docks—when a certain item caught his eye.

There, in one of the exotic stalls, was a pearly-white floral hair clip, its floral design resembling that of three white lilies in full bloom. It seemed to be made out of silvery-white silk—but the beads were what caught his attention the most.

The merchant of the stall seemed to have noticed the young man, as he begun to talk, his loud voice causing him to jump.

“Ohohoh, I see that you’ve fancied this white hair clip, haven’t you, young man?” the merchant began, bursting into a hearty laughter which reminded him faintly of his half-brother.

“The flowers are made of pure silk—and those are pearls, my son, harvested from the distant lands of the East,” the seller continued, a twinkle in his old, greyish eyes. “It’s quite a beauty, no? And I’m sure that the young lady fortunate enough to receive this from you is quite beautiful as well.”

 

Heat was quick to spread up Arthur’s cheeks, the image of the Pearlblood suddenly entering his thoughts. He immediately frowned, shaking his head.

“H-How much is it?” he demanded, furrowing his eyebrows at the merchant.

“Ohoh. I would normally give it at the price of a hundred and half gold coins, as this is made of pure silk and pure pearls,” the trader replied. “But—I can see it in your young eyes that you are desperate to win the heart of the lady you admire, my son. So—whatever you are willing to give me, I shall gladly accept it.”

Arthur quickly fished out the remaining coins from his pocket—five gold coins, ten silver ones, and two copper ones. “This is all I have,” he replied, trying to hide the dismay in his voice. Nonetheless, the merchant shook his head with a laugh, gladly accepting the meager price the young man had paid.

 

“I wish you luck on winning the heart of that special lady,” the seller called out, long after Arthur had walked briskly away, the blush still persistently staying on his cheeks.

“And, son— you remind me of someone I once knew,” the man continued. “You remind me of the previous ruler of this land.”

 

———————————————

 

As the bright sunlight of the day slowly faded and gave way to the cool darkness of the night, the young man couldn’t help but let his mind race off. The merchants and sellers that lined the streets of the Marketplace and the lively noises of the commonfolk were gone, along with the daylight, and the silent gazes of the streetlights filled the now empty narrow cobblestone streets.

 

A hundred thoughts passed through his head.

What exactly did that merchant mean that he reminded him of the previous ruler of the land..? Did he mean the previous King Bonnefoy—the cold-hearted king that ordered the mass execution of most of the rustbloods that rebelled beneath his cruel laws? It couldn’t be—he wasn’t that frightening to look at, was he? Sure, he might be rather rude at times, but that didn’t mean that he was cruel and merciless. Besides, the Bonnefoys had sapphire-blue eyes, a deeper blond hair colour, and a rather handsome, well-built physique—even the princess Marianne herself proved to be rather tall and proud and regal, as her brother and their father before them seemed to be.

And Arthur? He had the rare set of bright, emerald-green eyes, pale blond hair, and a tall, rather lanky build— not to mention his rather odd-looking, thick eyebrows. No matter how long he’d have to stare himself down at the looking glass, he would find no trace of the lineage of the Bonnefoys in his image.

 

Besides, he was a rustblood, after all… wasn’t he?

 

He carefully dropped the sacks that he had carried from the Merchant’s Docks—all the items his adoptive mother had told him to buy. Then, from out of his pocket, he took out the silvery-white floral hair clip, staring at it rather longingly for a few moments, before setting it down on a small table. Then he made his way towards his bedroom.

He opened his dresser, taking out a clean, white shirt, then setting it gently atop his bed, before removing the dirty, soiled shirt that he had worn for the day. From the corner of his eye, he saw himself on the looking glass—a tall, rather lanky figure, with messy golden blond hair that could never be tamed, no matter how much time he spent fixing it.

And those damned eyebrows. Such hilariously unfortunate things they were.

 

And then, from outside his room—which he had, unfortunately, forgotten to close the door to—he heard the front door burst open, revealing the taller, more well-built figure of his half-brother.

 

“A-Alfred—!!!” he shouted angrily, scrambling to fix himself and put on the clean white shirt. He hurriedly exited his room and made his way towards the small main room. “How— How many times exactly do I have to tell you to knock first, before you enter the house?”

“It’s your problem, Artie,” the younger boy laughed. “You never lock the doors of the house whenever you’re here.”

 

“Anyway, what’s up with this?” Alfred asked, his eyes set on the floral hair clip that was still set on the table.

“You do know that your mother told me to buy her some things from the Merchant’s Docks, don’t you,” Arthur grumbled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t mean that, Artie,” Alfred laughed, picking up the hair clip from the table. “I mean this one. What’s this for?”

Arthur’s face immediately filled up with heat, the scowl on his face growing. “Give— Give me that,” he began, snatching the hair clip from his younger half-brother’s hands. “Why should it matter to you, anyway?”

 

Alfred couldn’t help but snicker. “Wow, sensitive,” he commented, raising his hands. “Anyway, your fair lady’s waiting for you outside— you wouldn’t want her to wait too long, wouldn’t you..?”

Arthur cursed and muttered beneath his breath, the grimace on his face deepening, before he rushed out of the room and out of the house, placing the hair clip back inside his pocket.

 

“I truly and deeply apologise for having to make you wait, Lady Sakura,” Arthur huffed, as he gently took a deep bow before the young lady, trying desperately to turn his former frown into a small smile.

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh lightly at him, giving him a gentle smile in return. “It’s alright, Arthur, I wouldn’t mind,” she replied, removing the hood of her cloak off her head. Her now revealed face shone brightly against the faint, yellowish glow of the street light. “And, I’ve told you before— please, just call me Sakura.”

 

“Ah, right,” he began, letting out a soft chuckle. “I always do seem to forget. You just always have that rather regal posture and atmosphere about you, that I still find it rather difficult to simply call you by your first name.”

“Anyway, shall we get going?” he added, offering the lady his arm, to which she gently—and gratefully—took. “I doubt that there would be anyone out in the city at this late hour, anyway, so there really is no need for you to fear. After all, I shall be here to ensure your safety.”

 

The two of them walked past the dark, empty streets of the city, the only thing refraining them from getting lost was the dim light of the street lamps. As Arthur had said, there was not a soul in sight at this late hour—everyone else had all simply gone off to bed. Not that there really was a curfew—but with the heavy work that the Bonnefoys had enforced on the commonfolk, everyone was quick to want to rest—even if that rest was not enough to relieve their tired bones.

 

The two of them arrived at the now empty, closed stalls of the Merchant’s Docks, the faint, yellowish glimmer of the last lamplight fading away into the darkness of the engulfing, open sea.

Sakura tilted her head, her deep yellowish-brown eyes meeting with his bright green ones. There was a slightly confused look on her face—it was as if she was asking what the two of them were doing there, and why exactly had he brought her here.

“This place… is simply rather calming to me,” the taller young man began, as if answering her silent question. “And besides, it’s quite far from the prying eyes of the cityfolk— even if there are none of them roaming the town at this late hour, it is better to be safe than sorry.”

 

The two of them walked at the end of the bay, where the bricks separated the waters from the land. It was a rather silent moment, the only sound that rang in their ears was the sound of both of their footsteps. An occasional inquiry would be brought up—a series of “how do you dos”, and “I’ve been alrights”—but aside from that, their walk was filled with a rather comfortable silence. Perhaps their acquaintanceship had grown so strong, that the two of them were comfortable with neither one of them speaking.

 

“Ah, Sakura, before I forget—“ Arthur suddenly began, his hand rummaging through the inside of his pocket. “I’ve managed to see quite a wonderful sight today— though, in comparison to you, it would only come second.” He then pulled out the silvery-white silken hair clip, with the pearls glimmering faintly against the dim streetlight. His nervous, shaking fingers brushed aside some of her jet black hair lightly, gently clipping the floral hair clip on the side of her head. The three silken lilies and the pearl ornaments swayed lightly in the gentle midnight sea breeze.

“Ah, Arthur—“ the Pearlblood began, suddenly at a loss for words. Her face flushed a light, whitish colour as heat quickly rose up to her face. “You— You really didn’t have to—“

“I… I wanted to get it for you, Sakura,” he replied, quickly averting his gaze.

“It reminded me strongly of you. A-And, it’s made of silk and pearls, as well—quite fitting for a lady from the House of Honda, really,” he continued, lowering his head to hide the blush that was quickly forming on his cheeks. “N-Not that this means anything, of course— t-this is simply between your friendship with me, and that is all.”

 

Sakura laughed lightly, and gently took his face in one of her palms, gently raising his head to make him look at her. “Arthur, I’ve owned quite a lot of hair clips—most of them similar to this one,” she began—though her words somewhat made the young man rather dejected.

“But—“ she continued, quickly pushing aside the subject before it persisted. “But, I shall always remember and cherish this one the most, as it is a gift given to me by you.” She ran a delicate finger across the hair clip, the smooth white silk and pearls soft beneath her touch. She reached out to him once more, gently caressing the side of his face with her hand. “Thank you very much—this means quite a lot to me.”

 

In the heat of the moment, Arthur couldn’t restrain himself from leaning a little closer to the smaller girl’s face, both their eyes suddenly filled with deep longing. Even the young lady herself couldn’t help but stand on her toes, nearly closing in the space between the two of them.

 

But a sudden thought immediately made Arthur snap back to his senses, and he immediately pulled away, before he could do any further damage.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he blurted out, lowering his head in shame. “However, I am glad that you appreciate the gift.”

 

Sakura simply stared at him, trying to hide the dejection that was written deep in her eyes. “Thank you for the gift,” she repeated, forcing a smile onto her features.

 

“Now, Sakura,” Arthur began, casting a quick glance back at the silent, empty town. “I do believe it is past the time for you to return to the palace.”

She nodded her head lightly—she had to admit, the night was growing darker, and her eyelids were getting heavier as the minutes passed by.

Arthur nodded his head, then walked on ahead, leaving a few spaces between the two of them to avoid any further mishaps. After all, strong as his feelings for her might be, he knew that a noble like her would never have it in her heart to return those emotions.

 

Unbeknownst to the young man, Sakura was stealing glances towards him the entire time they were walking back to his house and back to Alfred. She could clearly see the inexplicable sadness and dejection that were quick to overtake his usually bright, emerald-green eyes. Something inside her wanted to take away whatever unhappiness grew in his heart—but she knew that whatever she did to reach out to him would only make him grow more distant towards her, pushing her further away.

 

“Oh, you two are finally back,” the loud voice of Alfred greeted the two of them, the minute they returned to the house. “Took you two long enough—I’m already feeling so sleepy, and if only I didn’t have to take Lady Sakura back to the palace, I would’ve already dropped down and fallen asleep,” he guffawed, standing up from his seat. “And it seems to me that you two enjoyed your time together, huh?” he added, eyeing the hair clip that was now on Sakura’s head, his eyes moving down to their intertwined hands.

 

At the realisation, Arthur immediately glanced down at their hands, and flinched, quickly shying away and moving a little further from Sakura. “W-We had a nice chat, Alfred, if you were curious,” he spat, the harsh tone of his voice returning. “It was a fairly nice talk, which you _obviously_ do not have anything to do with.”

“Oh, come on, Artie, don’t be so mean and unpleasant, especially since we have such a fair lady with us,” Alfred chuckled, walking towards the two of them.

 

“Anyway, I need to return Lady Sakura to the palace—“ he directed his gaze towards the young noblewoman, grinning at her. “Shall we go, then?” Sakura nodded her head, looking back one final time towards Arthur, before following Alfred outside.

 

Thankfully, as soon as they returned, the lights from within the palace were all turned off for the night, and it seemed as if everyone else—down to the cellar mice—were already fast and peacefully asleep.

Sakura struggled to get back to her room, through the slightly ajar window—lately, she had gotten better at climbing the vines that crawled on the wall beside the window, even if she were wearing heels.

 

“Hey, Lady Sakura,” Alfred called out, once Sakura had successfully climbed back inside the safe confines of her chambers.

 

The young lady stuck her head out, raising an eyebrow in slight confusion.

 

“You like Artie, don’t you?” the young boy grinned cheekily, his white teeth shining against the dim glow of the moonlight.

 

Sakura couldn’t help but purse her lips tightly into a straight line, the look on her face an embarrassed half-frown. She rummaged her head for answers—alibis she could possibly use in response to the question of the younger boy—but nothing came up to her head, no matter how hard she tried.

 

Alfred couldn’t help but laugh at the visibly flustered face of the young noblewoman. “You don’t need to tell me, really,” he said, his voice rather hushed. “I think it’s rather obvious. Besides, I think Arthur does fancy you himself, in all honesty—even if he might not admit it.”


	5. Chapter 5

“It is such a great pleasure to have this tea party with you, Prince Francis and Princess Marianne.”

The Jadeblood’s words hung in the air, as she forced a small, polite smile on her face. Her cousin—the slightly older Pearlblood—cast a quick glance at her, half-surprised on how she took initiative to greet the two royals, and half-embarrassed for her cousin’s slight straightforwardness, hoping silently that she could’ve spoken instead for the two of them. She herself had to force a calm, gentle smile at the direction of the Sapphirebloods, trying to hide the slight unease in her nerves.

To tell the truth, Sakura had always been rather nervous and anxious whenever she was in the presence of the Crown Prince and his sister. Though she knew that she was on a higher peerage than they were, and that she was a high noble herself, she still couldn’t help but feel rather awry whenever they were around.  
She wasn’t exactly sure why, either—she herself didn’t know where this small fear of the two came from.  
Was it the way they always carried themselves in such a high, proud manner, that obviously demanded the entire attention of the room..? Or was it the warning that her cousin had told her three weeks ago, during the afternoon before their welcoming ball..?

“And it is such a great pleasure to have you with us as well, Lady Lien,” the Crown Prince replied, giving the Jadeblood a soft, gentle smile, before turning his head towards the other young lady. “And you as well, Lady Sakura.”

“Such a pleasant day for a tea party, don’t you think so?” the Princess commented, her voice a mix between a soft purr and a lively laugh. “We have been blessed with such a wonderful day today—the sun is shining rather brightly, and the flowers in the garden are all blossoming quite beautifully. Even the butterflies seem to agree with me.”

A line of servants arrived at the small, white table, some of them gently pouring tea onto the gold-trimmed white porcelain teacups that were placed delicately before each of the nobles, while the others placed the snacks that were arranged on a white tiered stand. There were light sandwiches and macarons, bite-sized shortcakes, cheesecakes, and mousses— it was rather evident that the Bonnefoys had a sweet tooth.  
Lien was about to reach out for one of the strawberry shortcakes that were within her reach—that was, until the Princess cleared her throat and the Crown Prince shook his head lightly. “The servants shall be the one to put it on your plate for you, Lady Lien, just tell them whichever one you would like to have,” Francis told her, a gentle smile curving up his lips. True enough, one of the attendees took the strawberry shortcake—along with a chocolate macaron that Lien had also requested—and placed it on the young lady’s small plate.

“Ah, Assam tea,” Princess Marianne mused to herself, a smile forming on her face as she delightfully took a sniff of the the tea, before taking a small, delicate sip from the teacup. “I’ve always enjoyed this tea—it has such a rather fruity flavour.” She turned her head towards the two Eastern ladies, her deep blue eyes somewhat piercing through them. “Don’t you think so, Lady Sakura and Lady Lien?”  
Sakura nodded her head, returning the smile. As much as she disliked small talk, she had to force herself to be patient, especially around the Western royals. “Indeed, it is,” she replied, answering for both herself and her cousin, who seemed to be rather immersed in her slice of cake. “It’s rather different from the green tea that we usually have, back in the East.”  
“Is that so,” the princess commented, carefully placing her teacup back onto the small plate and taking a bite from her chocolate mousse. “That’s quite… interesting.”

Sakura shifted uneasily in her seat, simply observing the two royals, and her own cousin sitting adjacent to her.  
It was rather ironic that the garden that they were now having this tea party in, was the exact same garden where the young lady had once been lost in, nearly a moon’s turn ago. Not much has changed in the garden—the same Sapphire-blue hue of nearly all the flowers still caught the eye of whoever saw them. The thought that Alfred, the caretaker of the gardens, as well as one of the few people she had managed to befriend during her short visit, was taking good care of all the plants and the flowers made her smile briefly to herself.

And then she caught the sight of those oddly-coloured roses once again.

Those roses… those bright, emerald-green roses, that grew stubbornly amidst the sea of blue ones.

A warm thought crept up her mind as the image of Arthur appeared inside her head. Though, on the outside, he may act rather cold, she knew that, deep inside him, was warmth and tenderness. After all, it has been said that eyes were considered to be the windows of the soul—and, no doubt, the young man’s inner kindness reflected in his warm, bright green eyes.

She must’ve been staring at the roses for far too long, her mind wandering off in deep thought, as she heard the deep, mellifluous voice of the Sapphireblood prince.  
“The roses are indeed quite a lovely sight, are they not, Lady Sakura?” Francis inquired, his eyes flickering with an unknown, yet somewhat conflicting, emotion. No matter how hard Sakura tried to analyse the look hidden deep beneath his eyes, nor how hard she tried to read further into the seemingly innocent inquiry, there was nothing that she could gather. Simply, she gave him a small smile and a quick nod of the head.  
“Indeed, they are, Prince Francis,” she replied, trying to match the warm suede that was the Prince’s voice. “I most especially enjoy how the colours are of your house’s and blood’s colours— they do indeed show how most regal, royal, and respected you are.”

The prince smiled at her warmly, his eyes switching from hers, to the roses that Sakura had been staring at.  
“Please, do excuse me, ladies,” Francis began, standing up slowly from his seat, then taking a low, gracious bow. “I have one small matter to attend to. I shall be back as soon as possible.” And with those words, he turned his back and left, marching deeper into the gardens.

Now, the Prince’s actions certainly aroused the curiosity of the Pearlblood. “Do— Do excuse me as well,” Sakura stated, she herself standing up, then taking a quick, courteous bow at the other two.  
“Ah, there really is no need to worry about my brother, the Dear Prince,” Marianne reassured, her fierce blue eyes beckoning the lady to stay—but Sakura was not one to be easily swayed. Before Marianne could speak any further, the Eastern young noblewoman made her way past the table and deeper into the gardens, following the footsteps that the prince had taken.

Sakura had not been walking for too long, her eyes wandering about as she tried desperately to search for the prince—when she heard the deep, velvety voice of the prince, once again. That once warmth-filled voice…now seemed to be filled with malice, anger, and rage.

“…haven’t I instructed you clearly that you uproot those Emerald roses?” the prince demanded at the person he seemed to be talking to.  
Sakura hid herself behind hedges in the shape of a fleur-de-lys, trying her best to keep herself well-hidden, yet all the while having a good vantage point of the entire exchange. As she craned her neck to look towards where the prince was, she was rather surprised to see the person the prince was angrily shouting at.  
It was her close friend, Alfred, whose once cheerful, bright aquamarine-coloured eyes held immense joy and happiness, were now instead filled with silent fear and terror, as his own tall figure cowered and shook slightly at the harsh words of the royal.

“I… I do sincerely apologise, m-my Dear Prince,” the rustblood replied, his voice quivering. The prince seemed to be rather unmoved at the gardener’s words, the frown on his face worsening as the minutes passed.  
“Why, then, have you not taken them and burnt them, up until now?” the Sapphireblood continued, his voice firm and unwavering. “Clearly, you are not doing your work well enough as a gardener. And for this, I should have to remove you from your position—and perhaps even get you executed for this slight that you have caused me.”  
The fear on the young boy’s face grew, all colour quickly draining from his face. He opened his mouth to speak—but even his words failed him, at a time where he needed them the most.

Sakura could bear the sight no longer. She stepped out from behind the hedge, donning on a polite smile as she approached the two of them. Her hands were shaking, and her mind was growing rather faint—but she gathered up the courage inside her. After all, Alfred had done so many favours for her, that she simply had to pay him back.

“Prince Francis,” she began, the smile on her face widening as she took a deep, courteous bow. “I do apologise for interrupting the conversation between you and this servant. I… I was simply distressed upon your leaving, that I just had to follow you to see if you were alright.”  
The choice of words that she had spoken seemed to have moved the royal rather greatly, as the anger that was clearly embedded on his face now turned into a more softer, kinder look.  
“Lady Sakura, I do apologise for making you worry,” he replied, his tone of voice back to the soft, velvety warmth that the young lady had always known. “As I’ve mentioned, I had a matter to attend to—a matter between me and the royal gardener.”  
The Pearlblood’s eyes shifted from the prince, to Alfred beside him—the young boy seemed to be bewildered at her actions, but dared not say a word. “It appears to be so,” she continued, tilting her head lightly to give the young gardener a gentle smile, before returning her gaze towards the Sapphireblood. “However, my Dear Prince, I would like to request to you one thing.”

The Crown Prince’s head perked up, a smile curving up his features. “I would do anything in my power to assure that you have this… this thing that you would ask for, my lady Sakura,” he replied, his voice rather sincere. “Please—do tell me what you would like.”

Sakura pursed her lips—clearly, she knew that the prince was rather invested in her—whether it was herself, or the high peerage that she carried, she didn’t know—that he would do anything to win her over. She opened her mouth—and the words that escaped her lips seemed to flow as freely as she didn’t seem to imagine.  
“I rather fancy those Emerald roses, my dear Prince,” she replied. “I would often visit this garden to simply look at them. So, my dear Prince, this I ask of you—please, do not take those Emerald roses and have them burnt.” Her eyes switched from the Prince’s deep blue ones, to the bright, light-blue of the rustblood’s. “And please, do not hurt the life of this royal gardener—I think he is doing fairly well on his work—brilliant, even. I know that he pours out his entire life devotedly to his work—so, please, I request that you do not lay a finger on him, either.”

The Prince seemed rather taken aback by the words that the young Pearlblood had spoken, as a clearly perplexed and bewildered look crossed his face. Clearly, he didn’t seem to like the strange request of this Eastern noblewoman—but, nonetheless, he let out a deep sigh, before nodding his head, and giving the young lady a soft, gentle smile.  
“Ah, I see now,” Francis began, his voice a low, gentle hum. “Do not worry, my dear Lady— I shall see to it that this request is fully granted. I shall neither harm the Emerald roses that you so highly enjoy, nor shall I harm the royal gardener.” He cast a quick glance towards the younger boy, who seemed to shudder a little in fear. “You may keep your work inside the palace gardens,” the prince told him—though his voice seemed to be soft, Sakura could clearly hear the underlying malicious tone beneath it.

“Now, then, shall we return to the others, Lady Sakura?” the Sapphireblood inquired, holding out his arm for the young lady to take. “I’m quite certain that my dear sister, along with your cousin, are possibly worried at our prolonged absence.” Sakura nodded her head, managing to give a small smile in return, before taking his arm rather hesitantly. As the two of them walked away, returning back to the garden table where the other two ladies were waiting, Sakura took a quick glance back at the slowly receding figure of the tall, young rustblood behind them.

“Thank you,” Alfred mouthed, the earlier fear in his eyes now washed away with a look of pure relief.  
Sakura nodded her head lightly, and turned her head from him.

“Ah, my dear brother, it took you long enough,” the princess Marianne commented once the prince and the young noblewoman returned. Her sharp, deep blue eyes turned towards the softer gaze of her older sibling. “See, even Lady Sakura had went to look for you—clearly, she has gotten herself worried for you.”  
“I am aware of that fact, Marianne,” Francis replied, taking a small bow in apology. “And, I am rather glad that she has, lest I be unable to return to all of you.”

Sakura knew that his words were a lie—a fabricated truth to reassure not only his sister, but her younger cousin, as well. Yet, she knew better than to speak against the words of the Crown Prince. In this world, peerages and blood colour hardly ever mattered any longer—whoever was a royal, and a future ruler, was to be treated with high regard, and whoever was not, whether they be of a higher blood colour, should know to keep their mouths shut. After all, as she herself had witnessed a few moments earlier, the Bonnefoys were a rather strict and proud high house—even the smallest slight would not simply pass by beneath their watchful eyes.

“We’ve already finished all the cakes and the sandwiches, my dear brother,” Marianne told the two of them, a long, slender finger pointed at the direction of the now empty tiered stand. “Oh, and I must have the two of you know, Lady Lien is of such an interesting character. Why, she knows of many various martial arts—Vovinam being one of them—as well as being skilfully trained in numerous bladed weapons. How she could maintain such a strong demeanour, and yet retain herself demure as befitting a young lady, is simply such a wonderful feat in itself.”

The prince smiled warmly at the Jadeblood, whose sharp eyes seemed rather unperturbed. “Ah, is that so, Lady Lien?” he spoke, eyes wide in feigned interest. “My, that is rather interesting, indeed. Perhaps you should teach my dear sister a thing or two about the way of the warrior,” he let out a soft chuckle, earning a scowl from the princess.

“Isn’t it getting rather late, my dear brother?” Marianne quickly pressed on, immediately changing the subject. “Don’t you have more important matters to attend to?” “Ah, you’re right,” Francis began, a look of soft surprise in his now widened eyes. “Now that you mention it… I suppose that I best be going. I apologise once again for this, my dear ladies.”  
“I need to be going on my way as well, in all honesty,” the princess chimed in, not long after her own brother had turned his back and left. “I have a private lesson in a few minutes. I do apologise for our behavior—but I do hope that you’ve enjoyed this tea party.” She gave the two remaining ladies a quick curtsy, the stray ends of her tousled hazelnut-brown hair lightly brushing the sides of her face, before heading off back to the inside of the palace.

“I suppose that we have to return to our chambers as well, don’t we, my dear cousin,” the Jadeblood inquired, her usually stoic voice now a calmer tone. “How odd that the Bonnefoys left the two of us rather hastily and hurriedly.”  
“I wouldn’t blame them, really,” Sakura replied, standing up once again from her seat. “After all, they are royals, and they have matters to attend to.”

“We, too, are of noble birth, my dear cousin,” Lien commented, her voice returning to its usual strict tone of voice. “You are of a higher blood colour than the Bonnefoys, and we mustn’t be easily swayed by them.” She stood up, her deep green, silken dress swaying lightly as she made her way towards the Pearlblood. She leaned her face closer to her cousin’s, her bright, golden eyes held into a tight stare with Sakura’s dark, yellowish-brown ones. “As resolute as a lotus,” she whispered, her eyes flickering with silent intensity. “My house’s words. And the words that I tell you now. You mustn’t be moved by the demeanours of the Bonnefoys, Sakura.” She straightened up, before walking towards the palace. “I shall see you later, my dear cousin. Hopefully at the dinner banquet, but perhaps even before then.”

Sakura stared for a moment at the slowly disappearing figure of her cousin. For someone who was well younger than she was, she was incredibly mature—far more mature than the young noblewoman could ever hope to be, at least to her thinking. She mulled and pondered over her cousin’s words for quite some time, staring at the empty tiered stand which had once been piled up with countless sweets just a few moments earlier. “As resolute as a lotus…” she mumbled to herself, her gaze shifting to the small row of emerald-green roses.

Had she done the right thing? she wondered. Standing up to the Crown Prince himself, in her own small way, by using the roses as an excuse to save the life of a dear friend. It may have possibly affected the outlook of the Bonnefoys on House Honda, and to the Pearlblood herself— and, no doubt, news of this would spread throughout the land, of a high noblewoman trying to save the life of a mere rustblood.  
But what was she to do, then? What were peerages and reputations, in comparison to the life of someone she clearly held close?

Noticing only then a servant, who was still standing attentively at a far corner, she gave them a warm, gentle smile, before slowly standing up from her seat at the garden table. “I am finished,” she told them gently, nodding her head. “You may now take these.”

“And, please, should my cousin or anyone else look for me, please tell them that I have decided to take a small stroll inside the Northern Gardens.”

The servant simply nodded their head, setting off to work right away, carefully placing the plates and the teacups onto a cart, before walking off, back to the palace.

Sakura sighed as she once more immersed herself further inside the garden. Where she had gotten lost inside the seemingly endless maze a moon’s turn ago, now she has memorised every step and every corner of the gardens. She had been inside the Northern Gardens far too often—it felt as if it were her only safe haven inside the entire palace, a place where she could rid herself of the pressing eyes of the other nobles and servants, and let in a breath of fresh air. She stretched out her hand beside her as she walked, the soft touch of the flowers greeting her fingertips.

“Alfred.”

The taller, well-built figure of the young man paused from his work, dropping his shears to his side as he walked away from the large hedge in the shape of a fleur-de-lys, and walked towards the young noblewoman.

“Sakura,” the rustblood greeted, his usual cheeky grin plastered onto his face—though, behind that smile, Sakura knew that there was something amiss.

“I… I apologise for the ruckus that I must’ve caused a bit earlier,” she quickly told him, bowing her head in apology.

“Woah, hey, nobles should never bow down to us commoners, right?” the boy chuckled, a half-hearted laugh escaping his lips. “And, anyway, what’s done is already done.” His grin slowly gave way to a more genuine, soft smile. “But, ah, I guess I do owe you one for that, Lady Sakura. If you haven’t intervened, who knows what would’ve become of me?” The rustblood sighed. “I’m quite sure that you’ve heard it yourself—the Prince might’ve possibly even had me executed. And, I dunno if you know, but whatever he says, he actually does.”

A small frown tugged at the lips of the Pearlblood. “That… that isn’t very nice, now, isn’t it…?”

“I gotta admit, it isn’t, but…” Alfred let out another sigh, his clear, aquamarine eyes now looking around the place. “Look, Lady Sakura, this isn’t the best place to talk about this subject. There are way too many prying eyes—even from afar. We are still in view of a few of the palace windows—I suggest that we go further down.”

Sakura herself couldn’t help but feel rather alarmed and wary all of a sudden—truly, if they were not too careful, there would surely be someone who would report of their conversation back to the royals. Not only would this risk the life of her dear friend—but it would possibly bring shame, dishonour, and possibly even death to her House and to her name.

Her head quickly shot up towards the windows of the palace, an uneasiness growing deep inside her.  
Sure enough, her suspicions proved to be true—there was indeed someone who was watching them from afar. However, that person had already seemed to leave—all that had ever caught her eye was the faint figure of someone who seemed desperate to flee the scene.

“…we should go,” Sakura replied, after a long pause. She quickly walked further inside the garden, her pace gradually speeding up.  
“Oi, wait up, Lady Sakura,” Alfred called out, rushing towards the young lady, who was already quite a well distance away from him.

“Now, do tell me more about the Bonnefoys,” Sakura demanded, her usually soft-spoken voice now more firm.  
Alfred let out a soft sigh, before starting.

“According to mama, they… they really weren’t the original rulers of this place,” he began, his usually loud and rambunctious voice suddenly low and serious. “There was another, far better royal family that ruled the land justly and fairly. By mama’s words, she called the Bonnefoys ‘usurpers’— I’ve no idea what that means, but I sure as hell know that that doesn’t mean anything good.” The young man paused, his eyes scanning the face of the young noblewoman. “She works for the Bonnefoys, yes, but before that, she worked for this better royal family, that was how she knew. The Bonnefoys weren’t all that too kind to their servants—they were strict, and demanded odd requests, even lowering the wages. They only gave mama this high position, just because she already was the head of the servants to the royal house before them.”

A frown made its way to the soft, gentle features of the Pearlblood, suspicion suddenly growing in her mind.  
“Tell me more, Alfred,” she began, after a long period of silence. “I… I need to know more.”

The young boy let out a soft chuckle. “I’m afraid that that’s the only thing I can tell you, Lady Sakura,” he replied, a resigned smile easing its way up his face.

“However, there is one other thing I do have to tell you. Or, rather— a question for you to ponder upon.”

He leaned in closer to the young noblewoman’s face.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why the Crown Prince is so insistent to have the bright green roses removed?”


	6. Chapter 6

“You seem to enjoy reading quite a lot, Arthur,” Sakura began, her soft, yellowish-brown eyes staring at the small rows of shelves filled with dusty, hard-covered books.

 

“Ah— i-indeed, I do,” the young man replied rather bashfully, a slight tinge of colour creeping on his face. “I… m-my adoptive mother has always taken a few of the books from the libraries within the royal palace, and given them for me to read.” He gently closed the book that he had been holding, and returned it in an empty space between two other books. “She may not seem that much, as she is simply the head of the servants in the royal palace—a high position, yet a servant nonetheless—but she is rather learned. She was the one who taught me how to read and write. It was her wish for me to become educated and learned, much as the nobles do.”

 

“How about Alfred, though?” Sakura asked, arching her eyebrow.

“He does know how to read as well, somewhat,” Arthur replied with a soft, small chuckle, his deep green eyes shining brightly beneath the low glare of the lone electrical lamp he read beneath. “Only a few words. He’s the type of person that prefers physical labour over gaining knowledge. Not that I blame him, of course—he helps out our mother a lot, in his own little way. ‘I’m doing it for mama,’ he always tells me. I suppose that is why our mother prefers doting on me, when it comes to education. Though I do help them out at times, I… I stay inside the house, most of the time.”

 

“…I see,” the young noblewoman replied. She let out a small yawn, her eyelids growing rather heavy.

“…thank you for spending time with me again, Arthur. I must return to the palace for now— Alfred is, without a doubt, waiting for me outside.”

 

“Ah, it has been a pleasure to have your company this evening, Sakura,” Arthur replied, nodding his head lightly. “I’ll be seeing you again. Farewell for now.”

 

Sakura nodded her head, a small, gentle smile gracing her features, before turning around and walking towards the door, exiting the commoner’s house.

“Alfred, let us return to the palace.”

 

“About time, Lady Sakura,” the young boy commented, his signature grin spreading all over his face. “ ‘m getting real drowsy already.”

 

“I do apologise for the long wait,” she immediately apologised, grabbing the hand of the young boy and hoisting herself up the back of the horse.

“It’s no problem at all, you know that,” Alfred giggled. “Besides, I know how much the two of you mean to each other.”

 

The young noblewoman’s face immediately turned a silvery-white colour, a bit embarrassed by the remark of the younger boy. “…please, just bring be back to the palace,” she replied in a low voice, lowering her head beneath her hooded cloak.

 

Not long after, the dim, yellowish glow of the town gave way to the dark, hazy forestry that surrounded the royal palace, with the large building itself looming over the distance. Not one shred of light was turned on— everyone inside the palace were all clearly fast asleep.

 

“Thank you for bringing me to Arthur once again, Alfred,” the Pearlblood began, jumping off of the horse.

“I already told you, it’s no problem, Lady Sakura,” Alfred replied, nodding his head. “Though, I do have to apologise for bringing you back inside through the kitchens. From afar, I just noticed that your room window had been closed.”

 

“I have seen it as well, Alfred,” she replied, a slight sense of alarm suddenly growing inside her head. “But, that doesn’t matter— it is possibly just your mother, or one of the other servants. Besides, I have already told your mother that I shall be taking a late stroll in the gardens… a-as well as not to look for me there, as I would very much prefer to have some quiet time all by myself.

 

“If that is the case…” Alfred said, eyebrows furrowing both in concern and slight doubt. “I shall see you tomorrow, then, Lady Sakura. I do hope you know your way back to your room—after all, this palace sure is such a huge maze.”

 

Sakura simply let out a small, soft laugh. “No need to worry about me, really. I know how to return to my chambers.”

 

Thankfully for the young noblewoman, the kitchens were connected to the lower dining hall— the place where she, along with her cousin, uncle, and the Sapphirebloods would always have their breakfast meal. The lower dining hall was rather far from the room that she was temporarily residing in, not to mention that it was rather difficult navigating the labyrinth-like royal palace in the dark, with only half of the moon lighting her path. But she was determined—and perhaps more frightened to take along a lamp with her and garner attention from whoever else might be passing through the halls at such a late hour, but determined still—and not even the dark could hinder her from safely returning back to her chambers.

 

As she was walking through the halls, she couldn’t help but feel a slight unease. Whenever she would take a step, the sound that echoed from her heels had another sound that followed immediately after—as if there was someone else walking through the halls in the same pace as she was.

 

She spun around, eyes scanning her surroundings rather warily.

 

There was no one there.

 

…or, at least, there wasn’t anything she deemed out of the ordinary, when she looked. Everything seemed to be just about normal—the tapestry hanging on the walls still loomed above the petite young lady, the silvery-blue colour of the armour that stood hollowly in the hallways remained still, and the melancholic, soft gaze of the moon that gave light to her path still shone.

 

However… she was rather certain that she had seen a faint shadow hiding behind a small niche in the walls. Perhaps it was simply her fear of not getting caught roaming the halls at such a late time, that her mind had begun to play tricks on her.

 

She shook her head, pursing her lips firmly, before continuing to walk towards her room.

 

—————

 

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

 

Warm streaks of sunlight greeted the features of the young Pearlblood. Bright, golden-yellow eyes fluttered open, her gaze shifting rather drowsily around the room.

 

“Ah, good morning, Mrs. Jones.”

 

“Would you like to dine along with the others in the lesser hall, my lady? Or would you rather have your breakfast served in your room?” the soft, mellifluous voice of the older woman echoed in the young lady’s ears.

 

“Ah, I— I think I’d prefer to dine with everyone for today… a-as I always do.”

 

“So be it,” the head of the servants spoke, nodding her head softly. Without another word, she immediately called to the other attendees, asking them to prepare a bath for the young noblewoman.

 

Sakura gently pushed off the rather heavy covers of the bed, shifting towards the side, then standing up. After a small stretch and a yawn, she walked slowly towards the window which overlooked the Western Courtyard. The courtyard was a tad bit smaller than the Northern Gardens, yet majestic nonetheless—it greatly differed from the zen gardens and courtyards that she was so accustomed to in her land, back in the East.

 

After she had taken a bath and had her own personal handmaids dress her up—after all, Mrs. Jones and the rest of the Bonnefoy servants were unaccustomed to properly arranging a kimono, even if it was just a simple _komon_ — Mrs. Jones led her through the halls, towards the lesser hall.

 

“Are they all inside?” Sakura asked, raising her head slightly towards the taller, older woman.

 

“Ah, indeed, save for your uncle and the Crown Prince—they chose to dine amongst themselves privately. Only the princess Marianne and Lady Lien are inside.”

 

“…I see,” she commented, her voice trailing off slightly.

 

Mrs. Jones opened the doors of the lesser hall, her head dipping down slowly in greeting to the two other royals that were already inside the room. “Good morning, Princess Marianne and Lady Lien,” the woman began, the smile on her face reflecting the warmth of her voice. Sakura gave a quick bow herself as she entered, before situating herself on the seat adjacent to her cousin’s.

 

“Good morning, dear cousin,” the Jadeblood began, eyes not quite meeting with Sakura’s, and instead was quite focused on the teacup that was in her hands. For some reason, her cousin’s demeanour made the young noblewoman feel rather concerned— usually, her cousin would be more amiable. Was it because of the presence of the Sapphireblood princess that made her uncomfortable?

Besides, no matter how hard Sakura thought about it, there was certainly nothing she had done to cause such a behaviour in her cousin.

 

Nonetheless, the Pearlblood gave Lien a small smile, and nodded her head towards the princess Marianne as well, who simply nodded her head back.

 

“This afternoon, a distant relative of ours shall be visiting,” Marianne suddenly began after a long period of silence, placing her own teacup gently on its saucer, to which it was immediately refilled by a servant standing close by. “House Vargas, Berylbloods.” The princess turned her head slightly to the side towards Sakura, her set of deep-blue eyes looking her over. “Lady Felicia, and her twin brother, Lord Feliciano, have been wanting to have a word with Lord Wang, and no doubt, they would like to meet you as well, Lady Sakura. Lady Lien as well, should you want to join us.” The princess carried about her a tone of regality and business, much unlike her brother, who spoke with a softer tone.

 

“I’d love to meet with the nobles of House Vargas,” Sakura replied, a faint smile gracing her features. “But I’m afraid that I could not be able to join you in this meeting. Please, do send my regards to them.”

 

“I’m afraid that I’ll be unable to take part in this meeting as well, Princess Marianne,” Lien began, looking up from her teacup for the first time since Sakura had entered the room. “My cousin and I, we… we have our own matters to attend to.”

 

The Pearlblood felt grateful for her cousin for taking up her side— after the earlier occurrence as she entered the room, she was afraid that the younger lady and herself were not on friendly terms, for reasons unknown.

The princess eyed the two young noblewomen that sat on either side of her at the table, a curious look on her face— however, though it looked as if she wanted to ask the two of them a question, she said nothing, and instead wiped her mouth with a nearby napkin.

“Now, if you should all excuse me— I need to get ready to meet Lord and Lady Vargas.”

 

As the Sapphireblood left the room, a small moment of silence ensued. Sakura’s eyes shifted from the slowly disappearing figure of Marianne to her cousin, whose golden-amber eyes returned back to her teacup. She opened her mouth to speak— after all, the princess had already left the room, which meant that they could both speak normally amongst themselves once more— but the unease in the room only continued to grow.

 

“I’ll be going as well, dear cousin,” Lien began, her usually sharp eyes replaced with a sudden sombre gaze. Never once did she look at Sakura, who was more confused and concerned with her behaviour than before.

“Lien—“ she quickly said, but the Jadeblood neither spoke nor turned back to look at her— not long later, she was out of the room.

 

A frown quickly spread all over the delicate features of the young Pearlblood. Was there something she had said to her, that made her act rather hostile and cold towards her? The two of them were the closest of relatives— if anything, Lien was the only person Sakura could ever trust inside the palace, save of course the Joneses. Thoughts ran in her head as she tried to think of all the things the two of them had spoken about since the last week, when Lien began to slowly slip away from her.

 

“You’re still in here, Lady Sakura?” a warm, mellifluous voice echoed in the hall. It was Mrs. Jones.

“Ah, y-yes—“ the young woman began, abruptly standing up from her seat.

“Everyone has already left,” the head of servants said. “What are you still doing here?”

“I-I… I came in a little later than they did, so I… I was just finishing my breakfast,” she answered, her face flustered from telling a half-lie.

 

“So, you will not be joining the Bonnefoys and your uncle with meeting the nobles of House Vargas?” Mrs. Jones beckoned four other servants to clean the table, before ushering the Pearlblood out of the lesser hall.

“I… do not want to further meet with nobles,” Sakura replied with a small laugh, shaking her head lightly as they walked down the hallways.

“Is that so…” the older lady commented, giving a chuckle herself. “Such a life nobles must lead.”

Sakura nodded her head once again.

“I’d like to have some time to myself, for today,” she began. “I’d love to read a few books in the library. May you please escort me there?”

The head of the servants nodded her head. “Of course, my lady.”

 

The library within the palace was a thing of wonder— never has the Pearlblood seen such an extensive room filled with tens of thousands of books, as well as various maps of the Known World and the countries and regions that were in it.

Mrs. Jones had stayed beside the exit of the palace library, keeping watch over the Pearlblood as she walked through aisles and aisles of tall bookshelves crammed with books, some of which were more than hundreds of years old, and some of which were more recent works.

 

Golden-yellow eyes fluttered about the room in wonder and amazement. There were books that were written in the Western regions, and some of which were books from the East. Some books that were translated, and some books that retained its original language— some of which were languages of the past, long forgotten.

 

As she stared at the long rows of bookshelves, a thought suddenly came to the young noblewoman’s mind. Not so long ago, Alfred had mentioned that Arthur’s birthday was nearby— and, if she remembered correctly, it was sometime this week, perhaps even this day or the next. And what with the rather small collection of books she had found Arthur reading within his home, a thought occurred to her— what if she took a book from the palace library and given it to him? Surely, it wasn’t very becoming of a noblewoman, and of a High House, as well, to steal from any place. She herself had brought along a few books that had accompanied her through her trip in the Western regions, but unfortunately, they were all written in her language. She wouldn’t mind reading it to him and translating them, of course…

 

Her soft, delicate hands ran through the spines of each book that was near her. One title in particular had caught her eye— it was about the history of the relations between the Western and Eastern regions. She wasn’t quite sure if it would be something that would interest Arthur, but nonetheless, she took the book from its place on the shelf and scanned it briefly.

 

As she was about to return the book back in its place, wanting to look for others that she could possibly give him, she saw a small, rusty golden handle in the empty space. She glanced around her briefly to check if Mrs. Jones or another servant was there, before she removed the rest of the books beside it, and opened the small compartment.

 

It was nearly empty inside, save for a few cobwebs and a severely beaten book. As she took this small book in her hands, she noticed that the edges were burnt, and that some of its pages were missing— clearly, it had been rotting away behind all these other books, simply waiting for someone to come find it.

 

Curiosity welling up deep inside her, the Pearlblood opened the book gently, coughing as bits of dust flew out of the book. To her surprise, the book was not as old as it looked— it was written a little bit more than 20 years ago. Perhaps the condition from whence it was saved from, and the condition it was in when it was hidden, contributed to its faltering image.

 

On the front page, it read, in what seemed to be a highly stylised handwriting, “A History of the Nobles and High Houses of the Western Regions”.

Books like these were not rare, Sakura knew— she knew that there were many copies made of this book, and it was revised every ten years to accommodate the ever-growing list of nobles, the houses they were from, and the names of the current Heads of House and their spouses and children. However, finding it in such an odd place, such as a hidden crevice behind a bookshelf on a wall, and in such a dilapidated image, where its covers and edges were tainted with fire, was quite scarce to come upon.

 

She continued to flip the pages, going through the book despite its clearly run-down appearance. The book was quite similar to ones she had read before— it told of the same old stories of how the different houses came into power and the wars that waged due to differences in views and boundaries.

It also told of the Nobles and Heads of Houses of the Western Regions, some of which she was already familiar with— Diamondbloods of the Great Wide North, the Braginskis, who were nearly god-like with their immortality and the highest of all the peerages in the Known World— as well as the most peculiar and withdrawn of all the High Houses; the Berylbloods of the Middlelands By The Sea, the Vargases, whose blood ability could make them control the soil and plants; of course, the Sapphirebloods, who were originally from the Western Middlelands, the Bonnefoys, who were highly telepathic— they could either manipulate or read minds.

 

However, as she neared the end of the book, she noticed a particular section that she has never read about, both in older and more recent versions of the book— a section regarding Emeraldbloods, and the High House of Kirkland.

 

Eyebrows furrowed in deep interest, she continued to read on. A High House that she had never been taught of, nor has she ever read about, and a noble blood she has never seen or heard of.

 

“ _The High House of Kirkland; Emeraldbloods of the High North Seas._

 

 _A High House that rules the lands of the High North Seas, as well as most of the northern parts of the Main Western Region, where it shares a border with the Western Middlelands. In the latter parts— gained control— ruled nearly— entire Western Regions. Their emblem is the lion. A defining feature— Emeraldblood, is their deep green eyes—— golden hair. An Emeraldblood’s Ability is— they have— could only be killed with a large fire— many of them— ——the Emerald Flood was— an end to such a long, great reign._ “

 

Most of the history regarding the High House of Kirkland, unfortunately, were gone— the pages had been burnt severely, to the point that some of the text was difficult to decipher. However, as Sakura went through a few more pages, she discovered something that was far worse than a shock.

 

The page she had landed on was the lineage of the High House of Kirkland. Most of the names on the top of the page were names she could care less about— but what had certainly caught her eye were the two names at the very bottom of the page.

 

“ _Alice ‘Rosa’ Kirkland, daughter of Queen Britannia, head of House Kirkland. Murdered in the Emerald Flood, aged 4._

 

 _Arthur Kirkland, son of Queen Britannia, head of House Kirkland; heir apparent to the High North Seas kingdom. Current status unknown, presumed murdered in the Emerald Flood, aged 1._ “

 

As the Pearlblood read and reread the words on the page, a sense of urgency mixed with surprise and slight anger overwhelmed her. Her head was floating, her mind growing more and more hazy as the minutes passed by.

Could the Emeraldblood ‘Arthur Kirkland’ possibly be the same Arthur that she knew and had grown to love…?

 

Thoughts continued to race in her mind, her head throbbing slightly with a slight headache. She closed the book shut— but hid it inside her dress, careful enough not to make it obvious that she had taken a book from the palace library. Hurriedly, she placed the rest of the books back in their respective places, and ran towards the exit— towards where Mrs. Jones was.

 

“Oh my,” the older woman exclaimed as the sight of a distressed Sakura entered her sights. “What has happened, Lady Sakura? Shall I fetch you some tea? A few sweets? Perhaps a warm bath?”

 

The Pearlblood shook her head fervently, the look on her face unchanging.

“Mrs. Jones, we— we need to confer. I… I need to talk to you regarding something. Please, let us go to my chambers at once.”

 

The head of servants, though there was a puzzled, bewildered look on her face, followed the hurrying noble closely behind.

 

As soon as the two have arrived inside the young noblewoman’s room— and as soon as Sakura had made Mrs. Jones ensure that the doors were locked, and that no one was able to hear their conversation, the silvery-white, pale face of the Pearlblood turned to face the elder woman’s own features.

 

“Now, now, Lady Sakura,” Mrs. Jones began, a small frown of concern etched upon her face. “What seems to be the matter?”

 

“You are the head of the servants, are you not? And you were also the head of the servants to the house that served before the Bonnefoys…” Sakura said, to which the older lady nodded.

 

The Pearlblood pursed her lips, taking the decrepit book from within her dress.

“Then, please, explain this to me.”


End file.
